


Breathing In

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Lonely Heart of a Queen [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi, OQ Prompt Party 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 15:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14083923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: Written for OQ Prompt Party 2018.Mal saves Roland.





	Breathing In

Mal’s hand slips over his shoulder and she smiles gently, offering a reassuring nod. He reaches up and covers her hand, and he tries to smile back her.

“He’s okay,” she says. “He’s resting comfortably.”

“Thank you,” he manages.

He understands what she’s saying and he knows that she’s right, he knows that his son is perfectly fine and sleeping on the other side of the door. But an hour ago, that hadn’t been the case.

Roland knew that he shouldn’t play so hard. He knew that he couldn’t run the way the other boys did, and he couldn’t climb trees or swim in the river–and most of the time, he didn’t. He learned that it just wasn’t worth it. The attacks scared him and he could never gauge when they were coming. One minute he’d be running and laughing with his friends and the next, he’d be collapsed on the ground and heaving for air–so, there came a point when his friends would ask him to play, and he’d just shake his head and say that he couldn’t, no matter what the game was that they wanted to play. Sometimes, he’d sit outside or in the window, smiling sadly as he watched his friends play without him–watching and wishing he could be like them.

A month before, when Regina first sent him to Mal, she’d sent him home with teas for Roland to drink in the morning and at night. She told him that they’d open up his lungs and make it easier for him to breathe–and she told him that was only a starting point. After a couple of weeks, Roland began to feel better–and he began to test the waters. The first few times, he’d been tentative and cautious, but then as nothing happened and his lungs stayed strong, he became braver and more daring–and then, when he’d been chasing one of his friends in a harmless game of tag, he’d stopped suddenly. He’d fallen down to his knees as he gasped for air. His palms rested flat on the grass as tears welled in his eyes as he struggled, and he was barely aware of the group of kids who’d formed around him, unsure of what to do to help–or that the boy he’d been chasing had run back to the village to get his father.

Robin’s heart sank and his stomach twisted as he rushed toward his son, who by this point was red-faced and laying on his back, struggling for air as his eyes fluttered. He was barely conscious as he lifted him up and he’s only vaguely aware of yelling out that someone needed to go and get help–that someone needed to go and get Mal–and by the time he was laying Roland out on his bed, Mal was sitting at his side.

He’d watched as pulled opened Roland’s shirt and rubbed a sav on his chest. She instructed Robin to take off Roland’s shoes as she lathered her hands up either another balm on his feet. He watched as she pushed her fingers deliberately–pressure points, she’d told him, as her fingers coasted up up his body until she was pushing at spot below his earlobes. He was breathing shallowly, and his eyes were still closed when Mal instructed him to go and make some of the tea she’d given him–and when he’d returned with a cup and the kettle in hand, Mal was holding a small vial beneath his nose, telling him in a soft voice to breath it in as she helped him to sit up.

Robin poured a cup of tea or Roland, watching as Mal dropped in a few droplets of something and told the boy to drink it slowly–and only then, when Roland was sitting up and responsive, sipping on the tea as Mal whispered jokes to him that made him smile, Robin stepped out of the room as a wave of emotion overcame him.

“He’s like you were when you were his age,” Mal says. “Stubborn and unwilling to listen once he’s gotten an idea into his head.”

“There’s a difference though,” Robin says, turning to look at her. “I never came close to–”

His words catch at the back of his throat as Mal comes around to kneel in front of him.

“I think you mother would have disagreed,” she says easily. “I vividly remember a day you fell out a tree–a tree your mother told you not to go near, much less club–and broke your leg.”

“That was… different.”

“Was it?” She laughs. “Because I remember your mother running out of the house when she saw you laying there, not moving, and I remember how afraid she was.” Her hand slides up his knee. “I also remember that you were fine, and so is he.”

“He is,” Robin nods. “I know that.”

“You’re still scared.”

“I am because next time–”

“Robin,” she cuts in. “This is going to be something he battles all his life. I’m not going to tell you he won’t have another attack, but you won’t lose him.” He blink at her, ready to say that she can’t know that, but a soft smile edges onto her lips. “I’d never let that happen.”

He finds himself smiling back as her fingers press harder into his knee, and he finds such sincerity in her eyes that he can’t help but believe her. She pulls herself up and brushes her lips over his, kissing him softly and comfortingly, reminding him that life is filled with unexpected and wonderful surprises–and as he breathes her in, he’s reminded that he has no reason to believe his son living a long and happy life won’t be one of those wonderful surprises.


End file.
